Passion

This is my second rant on Blip today. Why do some people never learn?

Was on page 78 with more than 2,000 words done when I reached over for the whisky bottle and another shot for the 10th cup of coffee when I advertently hit a button on the notebooks and the whole lot disappeared into the crisp morning air.

You will now be spared my discourse on the passionate British nation and even the few British individuals who continue to drag the country even further back than the time of the Battle of Waterloo - the passionate Brexiteer who welds together Bentley cars in Cheshire just for the sake of the €170million p.a. loss the owners, Volkswagen, are prepared to throw down the drain so as to be official suppliers to HM The Queen.

Tumbling over the cliff while shouting traitor to the restaurant critic who only gave 3* to the pub serving Black Pudding stuffed Hot Cross Buns served on a thick bed of Mushy Peas and calling out for the undemocratic Junkers to be beheaded for not giving Halloween Protected British Tradition status.

The mad collective passionate stupidity against the individual acts of equally passionate, unrewarded sacrifice of people who give up their personal safety and comfort to help others, and I was thinking in particular about the homeless and a particular Bliper who will remain anonymous as I know he doesn't seek personal reward.

I feel very humble in comparison and annoyed at myself for such a  wasteful misuse of energy. However, in my defence, I would say that I do believe I owe it to generations to come to know a bit about some of the not so pleasant past. In the time since 1066 or the Battle of Waterloo, not everything in the UK has been quite so rosy. Remember MrsThatcher not known as the "Iron Lady" for standing up to the EU but instead as "Milk Snatcher" for stopping the EU subsidy to UK schoolchildren for a daily third of a pint of milk? Remember Oxford University not giving her a doctorate because of her education cuts? Remember the World Bank rescuing Britain from ruin in the 60's and 70's, the everyday power cuts?

Here I go again .... but this time no coffee or even whisky or perhaps better whiskey, until this post is finished.

Last lovely day before winter close down and making the garden, pool as secure from the coming ice age as possible. Was led to believe I was to be treated to a wonderful pot of organic, self-raised beef goulash tonight and had reserved my photography in anticipation of a "Most Popular" Blip posting entry. Somehow turned out the invite from friends had been turned down and I was forced to make a last minute evening effort to magically make culinary unicorns from the leftovers in the fridge. I took a photo of my HxB/black pudding/mushy peas German equivalent but one would need a very strong stomach to have digested the image.

Luckily before midnight, a premiere occurred and I had the strength and wherewithal, despite the bottles of beer I had consumed to wash away the food taste. Luna has always been very passionate about not sharing anything. She cannot stand the sight of Eddie the cat being near her when she takes a snooze indoors. She really does show her teeth as soon as he comes near, even though Eddie is the most lovable of types and has grown up knowing the belly of our old dog Flash's as being a wonderfully warm and safe place to cuddle in. 

Tonight things changed. Didn't last much more than five minutes before Luna exited the room in disgust despite my praise and strokes. But there is hope.

And so long as there is hope, life is worth living.

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